10-5
by HR always live on
Summary: An AU HR story, set during 10-5, following what would have happened if Ruth had made a different decision. Hopefully a bit more interesting, but I don't want to give anything away. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A small chapter to start with, going from 10-5, and I'm borrowing some spooks dialogue.**

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"Someone with diplomatic clearance might be able to lift it." Harry looked at her pointedly and Ruth felt a wave of disappointment swim over her as she realised what he was asking her to do.

"Oh God, Harry, you are not serious."

"This'll be the last time," he said urgently.

"Apparently you are serious," she said to herself. She shook her head to herself before speaking. "I can't, Harry," she said. "I'm not going to jeopardise my new job for your hunch. I no longer work for you."

"I know that," he said softly. "Please, as a favour to me."

"Haven't I done enough for you over the years?" she asked pointedly, and Harry felt the guilt swarm over him. "I won't do it Harry." She reached for the door handle, intending to leave the car, but something in the silence drew her back. "Look, Harry," she said quietly. "I think by now it's obvious. I care about you. For all the good it's done me," she added bitterly. "I'm not going to help you with your involvement with the Gavriks. If you thought about it objectively for one minute, you would see that this is helping no one. Not even you." With that, she did leave his car, going back to work.

Ruth walked away with a heavy heart, fearing that Harry really was in love with Elena Gavrik. She really wished she could just forget him and let him go, but she couldn't. It wasn't going to be that easy. Her phone buzzed and she knew it would be the Home Secretary without even looking. Sure enough it was. She quickened her pace, not wanting to make a bad impression so early in her employment, all the while thinking of Harry. Maybe after so many years, it was time to close a door behind all of that. Clearly her and Harry were never going to happen, and it was time to let it go.

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Harry's phone buzzed for the fourth time in five minutes. He answered it through sheer irritation, not because he had any desire to speak to Erin. He'd been driving around London aimlessly, thinking of Ruth, Elena, the grid and the whole sorry mess, and wondering what to do next. He hadnt made any decisions, so he guessed he might as well talk to Erin to put off the inevitable.

"What is it?" he asked, pulling the car to the side of the road.

"We have new intel that there's a bomb in the Home Secretary's car," Erin said, speaking quickly. "Coming back from the meeting at the American embassy."

Harry felt his insides turn to ice. "Is it good intelligence?"

"Yes."

"Call them," Harry said urgently, pulling back into traffic. He didn't know what he could do, but he had to move.

"What do you think I've been doing?" Erin said exasperated. "I have been calling every minute or so, but I think Tower's phone is off, and Ruth isn't picking up either."

"Get Callum to flood their phones with text messages," Harry said. "I'm going to call Ruth." He hung up, and called Ruth's phone, praying she'd answer. On the third call, she did.

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked, sounding exasperated. "I thought I'd made my feelings perfectly clear."

"We think there's a bomb in the Home Secretary's car," Harry rushed, cutting across her. "Get out now!"

He heard Ruth telling the driver to pull over, and Towers indistinct grumble and then the raising of voices. Then an almighty boom, which he heard both through the phone and throughout the air. "Oh God, no." He looked over the London skyline, but could see nothing. A car horn blared out behind him, bringing him back to his senses.

"Ruth?!" he said, knowing that she wouldn't or couldn't answer. It didn't stop him from trying, though. He kept calling and calling her, all the way through the gridlocked streets until he'd get some news.

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**More soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the encouragement and reviews for chapter one.**

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"Ruth Evershed?"

The receptionist at the hospital looked at her computer screen absently and Harry wanted to slap her. She was wasting precious time. "Family?" she said.

"Yes," Harry lied. "I'm her husband." He hoped he wouldn't get caught in that lie, but being left in the waiting room to wonder about her wasn't happening. He needed to see her, to see that she was okay.

"She's on the third floor, In a private room on ward A," the receptionist said.

"Thank you," he replied fervently. He raced to the lift, and quickly found where Ruth was, but it took far far longer than he'd have liked, every minute feeling like an hour. Soon enough though, he'd found her. He took a moment to catch his breath, and looked at her through the thin glass strip on her door. She was curled on her side, away from the door, and if it weren't for the familiar spill of brown hair, he'd be convinced he'd got the wrong room. As it was, he knew that he hadn't and he took a moment before he knocked and then slowly pushed the door open.

Ruth hadn't moved to his unexpected entrance, still staring at the wall. "Hi," he said quietly. With that, her eyes snapped to his face, though otherwise she didn't move, pushing herself further into the bed clothes.

"Go away, Harry," she said quietly.

Trying to pretend he wasn't hurt by this, he ignored her request. "How are you?"

"Like shit," she said. "Go away."

"Ruth..."

"Please," she added, a note of pleading coming into her voice. "Please go. I don't want you to see me like this."

A little relieved that it wasn't simply his presence she objected to, he ignored her and sat down on the chair by her bedside, right in her eye line. "How bad is it?" He asked, knowing that the truth was probably preferable to sugar coated lies.

"Bad but not life threatening," she said, keeping her voice free of emotion, and looking at anything but him. "Everything's going to work again, they think... they think the lasting damage is going to be more aesthetic."

It took him a moment to work out what she meant. Then he realised that she meant she was going to be scarred by the bomb blast, and that was upsetting her very much. He could see it on the small part of her face that was visible to him. "Oh Ruth," he said, not knowing what to say to her.

"I meant what I said in the car, Harry," she said. "Just because this happened doesn't change what I said or how I felt."

"I suppose it's not a good time to mention that I handed over the Gavrik operation completely to Erin."

"You did what?" Her eyes popped open in surprise, and he nodded.

"I'll still sit in on some of the more tedious meetings, and give her advice if she wants or needs my history and it's relevant to the operation. But you were right. I've been letting the Gavricks matter far too much, when they don't." When that bomb had gone off, he'd known exactly who mattered to him, and she wasn't Russian. Why had it taken that disaster for him to see it? He'd been considering asking Erin to take over anyway, as he probably was too close to this for comfort. But when he'd heard that explosion...

"I'm very glad that you're not injured," he said softly.

"Not injured?" she asked faintly. "Of course I'm injured!" she shouted at him. "Look at my left arm, look at the side of my face!" She tilted her head and he saw a bandage covering a large part of her cheek. He couldn't see the damage, but he guessed it to be bad from the tears in her eyes. Ruth wasn't the kind of woman to cry about a couple of scratches. He'd also noticed her arm was bandaged from wrist to elbow, but he hadn't given more thought to what was underneath.

"I meant, I'm glad you're not dead," he said firmly. It so easily could have been otherwise. She let a tear fall and he felt his heart break for her. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault."

She frowned at him slightly. "How do you work that out?"

"My interference. My constantly having an influence on your life. It brings you nothing but harm."

"I don't know," she said with a sniff. "If I'd been lifting the laptop you wanted me to, I wouldn't have been in the Home Secretary's car when the bomb went off. If I'd listened to your interference, I wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed right now, would I?"

"That's not quite what I meant," he said softly. "Every time I have any involvement in your life, I always seem to make it worse. So that in the long run, you're the one who suffers. I'm just... I'm not a good man, Ruth. I'm just... not. You probably want to stay away from me."

"How convenient," she said, her mask in place, hiding her emotions. "Now I'm disfigured, you decide that you no longer have any interest in me."

"You are not disfigured!" he said loudly, before he could stop himself. "Please, it isn't like that. It doesn't matter what you look like anyway," he added under his breath. She looked at him quizzically, so he felt he should continue. "Do you really think I fell in love with your face? I fell in love with you."

There was a hushed silence as they both looked at each other. "Do you know, Harry, that is a really lousy way to tell me that you love me for the first time."

"Well, I hadn't planned on it," he said, hazel eyes glowing at her as a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and within a few moments she was smiling too, in spite of herself. He changed the subject away from dangerous waters. "Can I get you anything? Is there anything you need?" She sighed heavily.

"If you could find some tea which isn't from the hospital vending machine, I'd be really grateful."

"I'll work on it," he said, giving her a smile, which he felt very grateful that she returned.

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**More soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

"There you go," he said, handing Ruth a hot cup of tea. She smiled her thanks and gripped it tightly. He saw the bandages again and felt a lump in his throat which wouldn't go away.

"Oh that's good," she said, with a sigh of pleasure as she drank the tea. "You don't have to stay," she added, ineffectually pulling the sleeves of the hospital gown down a bit, knowing where he was looking. It made absolutely no difference at all, but he knew she was uncomfortable. "Lots of Russians to deal with."

"I don't care," he said. "I suddenly saw what's important to me."

"And when did that epiphany take place?" Ruth asked with a raised eyebrow, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"When I was on the phone to you and heard a bomb detonate," he said honestly. "Everything just... slipped into place and I realised what mattered."

"I need to sleep," she said in a small voice. He knew it was partly true, and partly an excuse to be alone. He nodded, and didn't question it.

"I'll be back later."

"Okay," Ruth replied, knowing arguing was completely pointless. She closed her eyes and curled up on her side, her eyes flickering closed within moments. Maybe it wasn't simply an excuse to be alone then.

"Bye Ruth." He gently stroked her hair, unable to resist and then left the room. He would be back.

* * *

He arrived at the hospital late that night, after sweet talking the night receptionist, who was much more friendly than the one he'd spoken to earlier in the day. He was late because he'd been advising Erin on the situation with the Gavricks and it hadn't been fun or enjoyable. But he'd meant what he'd told Ruth, he was stepping back from it. If for no other reason than he couldn't see it ending well if he was so closely involved. Perhaps Erin and her fresh eyes would be a good thing.

He knocked lightly on Ruth's door and opened it without waiting for a reply. She was curled up in bed, but so tense that she couldn't be sleeping. And she knew that he wouldn't be fooled by her pretence either. "Long day?" she asked.

"Well, attempted assassinations of political figures do produce a lot of unnecessary paperwork." Harry sat down next to her, glad that she wasn't pushing him away tonight. If he didn't think too hard about the Russian's, it was almost like before. Before Cotterdam, before his ill timed proposal. Before everything became very complicated and difficult. If you ignored the fact that Ruth was in hospital after surviving a bomb blast.

"How is he?" Ruth asked. "I've been a bit..." The truth was she'd been feeling sorry for herself and apart from the fact she knew that Towers was alive, she hadn't even thought to ask about him.

"Broken leg, but he'll live," Harry said shortly. "Flying debris. You were..."

"Much closer, I know," she said with a sigh. "Towers can run damn quickly when he's got incentive." Harry sat uninvited and she managed a small smile. "I'm being discharged tomorrow. Don't," she added instantly, as she knew he was about to argue. "I can't just lie here, I feel beyond useless."

"Are you going to be all right at home?"

"No," she said. "I've got a nurse checking in on me twice a day. God, I'm forty one and I require nursing."

"Ruth..."

"Let me have this, Harry," she said, her eyes twinkling at him. "Just for today, let me moan and be miserable. I rarely indulge in those emotions, and after having my arm burnt I think I'm entitled to."

"I suppose you are," he agreed. He reached for her hand gently and she took it, letting their fingers entwine together gently. They both watched their clasped hands but said nothing for long minutes. Harry's thumb ended up running along her knuckles softly.

"You haven't mentioned my face," she said, making his gaze switch from her hand to her blue eyes. "It... well, it could be worse," she said and he knew perfectly well she was talking to herself, not him. "I tried to cover my face just before it went off. Which is why my left arm doesn't resemble an arm any longer."

"Ruth, it doesn't matter," he said. "I told you that."

"I know, but knowing my luck you'd probably just say it to make an invalid feel better."

"No," he said softly. "Soothing people isn't my strong point. Although I'm a good liar, so I can't really blame you for thinking that. You should know by now that I don't... I don't lie to you. Even when the truth is horrible, I don't lie."

"You lied by omission, Harry." He sighed, but she was right. They were back to talking about the Gavrik's again, much to his displeasure.

"Maybe I did," he said. "I thought... maybe hoped is a better word. I hoped I'd still have a chance with you, after everything we've been through and I thought mentioning Sasha when there was absolutely no need to would be dragging up the past for no purpose, would hurt you, and might ruin any chance we had."

"You've given this a lot of thought," she said. He nodded and she squeezed his hand. He was very reassured of the fact she was still touching him and showed no sign of letting go. "It hurt me Harry."

"I know."

"No, you don't," she said. "It didn't hurt me that you had a child. It hurt me that you didn't trust me enough to ever tell me or be honest with me. That's what hurt so much. I thought... even under professional circumstances, I thought we meant more to each other."

"I was frightened," he admitted. "Stupid now, but I wanted..." **_you_**. The word is unspoken, but hanging in the air all the same.

"Harry, do you think we have a chance?" she asked quietly. "I want us, but maybe too much has happened and... we can't... get past it."

"I don't believe that," he said. "Not if you want to try."

"I want to try Harry," she said. "It's all I've ever wanted." She smiled and he couldn't believe that at the end of this horrible day, they were here discussing their relationship in a way they'd never managed to before. He stroked the injury free side of her face and she smiled at him. He could feel her tense though, and he didn't want to take advantage.

"I'd like to kiss you. May I?" She nodded, and within seconds his lips touched hers, very gently. She sighed as the embrace became deeper and then ended far too soon. He stroked her hair gently and then let her go, smiling at her warmly. After a moment, he tried to stifle a yawn and she smiled.

"Go home and sleep," she said. "You're tired."

"I know," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed her once more and then left her alone. Ruth sighed and put a hand to the wound on her face. She already hated it, and the fact it would scar. She's sure she'd gain perspective in time, but tonight all she wanted to do was cry.

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**Thank you for the reviews so far. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This was intended to be a lot more angsty than it is, but I don't think anyone will mind!**

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Ruth lay on the sofa, flicking through meaningless TV channels, looking for something vaguely interesting to watch. She was failing spectacularly. She switched it off and got up to make herself a cup of tea. She had a (relatively) minor burn on her right leg which she hadn't even noticed until she'd been discharged that morning, but it made walking painful with the pressure. It took her a good fifteen minutes to make herself some tea and grab a packet of digestive biscuits. She'd just sat down when her doorbell rang. She ignored it, knowing that if it were Harry, he'd try the door (which she'd purposefully left unlocked), and if it were anyone else, they'd leave her alone. Her nurse wasn't due to come and change her dressings until six tonight, so it wouldn't be her.

She was pleased to see Harry poking his head around her living room door. "It's unsafe to leave your door open," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "I was hoping I'd have an intruder of the Harry variety."

He smiled warmly at that and came into the room, holding a bouquet of flowers. "I got these for you," he said. "I… I'm ashamed to say I don't know what your favourite flower is, so I picked up a random bunch."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. "For future reference, bluebells," she said, eyes glowing. "Or wildflowers. And a rose or two never hurt either." She took the bouquet and inhaled the wonderful scent. "But these are gorgeous, thank you." She smiled at him. "I have a vase under the sink, would you mind…?"

"Of course," he said kindly. He came back with the full vase within a few minutes. "Where…"

"On the table," she said. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Tired. Groggy, ill. Generally run down and exhausted."

"Are you sure you should be out of hospital?"

"Harry, don't." He nodded and sat down on the sofa next to her. "Have you… I mean, what's happening with Jim Coaver?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "Jim's managed to convince the CIA that I'm not deranged and that he was simply helping us with our investigations. Rather than me kidnapping him."

"He's a good friend," Ruth said after a pause.

"Yes," he agreed. They lapsed into silence which she broke as her thoughts began to shift into some kind of order.

"Who planted the bomb?"

"We don't know," he said softly. "Someone who doesn't want the British Russian partnership deal to go ahead, but beyond that…"

"You are going to look into it, aren't you?" she asked. "I know you have a lot going on, but…"

"Of course we are," he said, squeezing her hand tightly. "If nothing else, we have to investigate the threat to the Home Secretary's life." Ruth felt a cold wave go over her. Was that the only reason he was investigating it? "No," he said, feeling her tense. "It isn't like that. It's only… he was the target. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I've heard that before," she said quietly, but her eyes were smiling at him.

"Ruth, you cannot imagine how I felt when I heard that bomb go off. Do you really think my main concern was for the Home Secretary?"

"No," she said, looking at him. "I don't think that." She looked into his hypnotising hazel eyes and within moments she found herself kissing him, his soft lips against hers. She held his face gently, her fingertips stroking his stubble. He hadn't shaved in a while, she thought as his tongue stroked against hers deliciously. His hand crept around her back, holding her close as the kiss deepened.

All of a sudden, she pulled away, intense pain radiating from her cheek. He felt confused as she breathed heavily, and in a moment he realised what he'd done. He'd stroked her face and with her injury… he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"I'll be okay," she said quietly, eyes closed. "It just…"

"Sorry," he repeated. She smiled at him gently.

"Don't apologise for kissing me like that," she said, eyes sparkling. She ran her fingers through his hair for a moment and then closed her eyes.

"Shall I leave you to sleep?" he asked softly.

"I don't mind," she said. "You could stay."

"I…" His phone rang and she sighed, knowing that someone else wanted Harry's attention.

"Or leave," she said simply. "I know you're busy."

"I'm sorry," he replied. He kissed her briefly in goodbye and she smiled. Soon she was alone, and she yawned, feeling exhausted. She touched her hair for a moment, knowing she had to get it cut to sort out a couple of the singed edges. Even so, she knew she'd been lucky to escape with such minor injuries. She closed her eyes and remembered Harry's lips on hers with pleasure.

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**Thanks for the reviews so far. More when it's written.**


	5. Chapter 5

Harry had a restless night. It was rare for him to sleep well, but he couldn't turn his brain off and he spent his time thinking about Ruth. He wanted to take care of her, badly. But he knew that she wouldn't like that and most likely would push him away, to deal with this on her own. He tried to think of a way he could be involved in her life, without making her think he felt pity for her, because he knew she wouldn't be able to bear that. He didn't come to an answer, which left him with a sleepless night. He kept tossing and turning, his mind full of Ruth and the Gavrik's, as hard as he tried to push them out. By the time morning came, he was exhausted.

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"Thank you," Ruth said, almost through gritted teeth as the nurse left. She didn't like the nurse the hospital had sent for her home visits, and having the dressings changed was painful too. It didn't make for a good start to her day. The doorbell rang and she groaned. All she wanted was to be left alone but it seemed that she was bound to be disturbed.

"Oh, Harry," she said when she opened the door. "Come in." He smiled at her, and in spite of her misery, she smiled back as they walked through to her kitchen. "Tea?" she suggested.

"I'll make it," he murmured. She was too tired to argue, even though her mind was thrown back to the last time he'd made her tea in her kitchen five years ago. Was it really that long? Five years? She sighed and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing," she said to his unspoken question. "No political meetings to be at today?"

"No," he said quietly. "My presence isn't needed at the signing of the partnership."

"That's happening today?" she asked as he put a mug of tea in front of her.

"Yes," he said. "Thank God. Then the Gavrik's can fly back to Moscow."

"Mm," she agreed, wrapping her fingers around the warm mug.

"How are you?"

"Okay," she said. "Painkillers have kicked in. How are you?"

He didn't reply, just smiled at her. He reached inside his jacket pocket and gave her a wrapped gift. She looked at it and frowned. "Open it."

She did, and inside she found a brand new kindle and she looked at him. "I know how boring daytime television is," he said. "And I also know you've read all the books in your house. I just thought…" She stood up and kissed him, deeply. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as their lips parted.

"That's really thoughtful of you," she said. "Thank you." She kissed him again, his lips so inviting that she couldn't resist. When they parted they were both breathless and Ruth smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose delicately. He groaned loudly as his phone rang.

"I hate that I have to go," he said, holding her close and not moving an inch to answer the phone.

"I know," she said with a small smile. "I'm getting my hair sorted this morning anyway."

"There's nothing wrong with your hair," he said.

"It's got singed black ends," she said simply. He opened his mouth to reply, but his phone rang again. "Go," she said.

"I'll be back later," he said firmly. "Once the crisis is over."

"Good," she said. Her eyes were twinkling as he gave her one last kiss. Then he was gone and she sighed happily. Harry's kisses were wonderful, and she couldn't believe she'd been missing out on them for so long.

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It was late when Harry rang her doorbell. So late it could be early. She'd rung him once during the day, but could tell from his tone that he'd been really busy and couldn't stop to talk. She hadn't called again. Now, at two o'clock in the morning, he was on her doorstep for a reason best known to himself.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. Within moments she found herself wrapped in his embrace, his hands running up and down her back. After a moments surprise, she turned her face towards him, breathing in his familiar scent. "Let me shut the door," she said after a full minute of silence during which they'd simply held each other. He let her go and she locked the door, assuming that Harry would stay here tonight as it was so late.

"What's wrong?" she asked as he stroked her hair gently.

"Ilya murdered Elena," he said quietly.

Ruth wasn't surprised, though she probably should have been. "Why?"

"Because she's a fanatical terrorist who's lied to everyone and every side she worked for."

"No, I'm sorry," Ruth said. "I'm going to need you to explain a little more than that."  
They moved through into the kitchen to sit down and he gripped her hand tightly across the table as he explained about the plane. The plan to have British forces shoot a Russian plane down, which had ultimately failed when Erin didn't believe Elena's ploy. How Ilya had become so angry about his wife's deception and betrayal that he'd killed her while Sasha looked on.

"What's going to happen to Sasha?" Ruth asked.

"He's in prison at the moment," Harry said. "Attempted murder, but he'll be sent back to Moscow pretty sharply.

"I'm sorry, attempted murder?"

"He shot me," Harry said shortly. Ruth felt a thrill of fear, that she could lose him before logic caught up with her. The fact he was sitting in her kitchen meant he wasn't in immediate danger. "If he hadn't been so upset at his mothers death, his aim would have been much more accurate."

"Where…?"

He put his hand on his upper right arm in answer. "I'll live."

"Good," she said, squeezing his free hand and smiling. "I don't want to lose you." He smiled at her before she yawned widely. "Look, it's late and I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."

"Of course," he said. "I just needed to see you tonight. It was selfish of me to wake you up."

"I didn't mean you had to leave," she said. "It's late and my bed's as good as anywhere else. And I might sleep a little better with you by my side." He looked at her for a moment, unsure if she was serious. Apparently she was. Not one to turn down an offer like that, he smiled at her and took his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the chair.

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**More after Easter weekend. :) Thank you for the reviews so far.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way.**

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Harry awoke first the next morning, after a surprisingly good nights sleep. He'd expected to sleep poorly, with Ruth next to him as a temptation. As the thought occurred to him, he realised his hands were on her skin and he opened his eyes. She was still asleep and he smiled, even as he splayed his fingers on her bare back. Her T shirt had ridden up slightly and he could feel the curve of her spine against his palm. His other hand was resting gently against her thigh and he stroked her skin lightly, before he could stop himself.

"Mm…" Ruth murmured sleepily. She pressed her body against his gently and he swallowed uncomfortably, unaware of whether she was still asleep or not. He felt her full breasts against his chest, even through the clothing they wore. She shifted and wrapped an arm around him.

"I'm awake, Harry," she murmured without opening her eyes. She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, her tongue darting out to taste him. Harry groaned, trying to keep a tight grip on his self control. She stroked his face softly and sucked his earlobe before kissing his lips sensuously.

She cried out in surprise as he flipped her over onto her back and pressed her into the mattress before kissing her soundly. She stroked his calf with her toes and he shivered. "God, your feet are cold."

She laughed and opened her eyes. "I slept really well last night," she said, her voice low and almost sensuous.

"So did I," he agreed, pressing a kiss to her neck gently. "I don't… normally sleep well. I was comfortable with you last night."

She smiled, taking it as a compliment and loving the implied fact that he trusted her. Her eyes slipped lower and saw the bandage on his right arm. She touched the edge gently, the easy going amusement fading fast. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," he said with a shrug. He'd had worse, much worse. But it did sting a bit. He reached for the bandage on her face and she turned her head away from his touch. She didn't want him to see her scars, or remind her of them. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes," she said simply. He rolled off of her, the moment of connection between them now gone.

"Where are your painkillers?"

"In the bathroom cabinet," she said quietly. "I can get them."

"No, don't move," he said, kissing her injury free cheek before he got up. She was warm and comfortable, so she let him move without feeling too guilty for staying in bed. He came back a few moments later, and she gratefully took the glass of water and her pills. Harry was about to speak when his phone rang. "Sorry," he said. He answered it and Ruth felt the happiness she'd woken up with shatter. The grid was always out there, waiting to drag them back into the miserable world of bombs, politicians and terror.

The conversation was short, and Ruth sat up, hugging her legs as he disconnected the call. "What disaster is it now?"

"Nothing," he said, getting back into bed. "Test results."

"On what?" she asked, confused.

"Sasha," he said. "I wanted to check, considering his mother is… was a pathological liar."

"To check whether he's your son," Ruth finished. "And?"

"He's not my son."

"Good," Ruth replied after a brief silence. "He's a nasty piece of work and I'd hate to think he was yours." Harry was silent. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me."

"No," he said. "I'm glad he's not mine. Makes me feel slightly less of a complete failure."

"Oh Harry," she said quietly. "I don't know… what to say."

"Neither do I." They were interrupted by her doorbell ringing.

"What's the time?" Ruth said, looking at her bedside clock. "That'll be my nurse," she said with disdain. She got up and covered herself with her dressing gown. "I'm probably going to be a while. Don't you have to be at work?"

"No," he said. "I'm taking a few days off after the Gavrik affair." _To see if I still want to do this job,_ he thought to himself, but didn't say aloud. "I'll be here when you're finished."

The doorbell rang again and Ruth rolled her eyes. "Can you make me some tea?" she asked with a smile.

"Of course." She smiled, and then was gone.

* * *

Harry quickly borrowed her shower, before getting dressed in yesterdays clothes. By the time he made them both tea, Ruth emerged in the kitchen looking irritable. "Calm down," he said before she could speak.

"I just don't like that nurse. And getting my dressings changed is painful." She sat down heavily and wrapped her fingers around her warm mug of tea. "Sorry. I don't mean to be complaining." He kissed her gently and that made her smile. "What are you doing today?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, picking up a newspaper that had been on Ruth's kitchen table. Three days old he saw before flicking through it. Ruth smiled at him in her kitchen, brow furrowed as he read the paper. It seemed so abnormal but at the same time, so reassuring. She liked him in her life, she decided at that moment. Very much.

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**More when it's written. Hope you're enjoying so far.**


	7. Chapter 7

**The rating of this story has gone up to M. :)**

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They settled into a routine, before either of them were aware of what they were doing. In the mornings, Harry would get updated by Erin, and spend about an hour on the phone, making sure things were running smoothly. Ruth would call the Home Office and get a few files delivered over for her to read and sign (which felt slightly strange to her, as for so long it had been she who had delivered files for signing to Harry). In the afternoons both she and Harry would spend time together, to go out and do nice normal things. Walk along the embankment in the sunshine while they talked of nothing which involved terror or MI5. They spent one afternoon at Kew gardens, which had been very enjoyable. It felt so wonderful to get to know each other away from the constant threat and adrenaline of Thames house. It felt novel and incredibly normal.

At night, they usually slept at Ruth's, having both discovered that they slept very poorly alone. But nothing further had happened between them, more than a few kisses and cuddles. Ruth wanted more, but whenever their embraces went on for too long, Harry would pull back or turn away from her, which was beginning to hurt her.

Ruth stared out of her bedroom window, thinking about him and the lack of physicality between the two of them. It was late at night, and the rain was hammering against the window, turning the street lights into orange blurs as she watched absently.

"Ruth?" She turned to see Harry looking at her, a frown on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said, forcing a smile on her face. Then she changed her mind and decided to be honest with him. "No."

"What is it?" he asked, walking closer to her. He wore a loose shirt, a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, and looked very, very good. She'd always loved how he looked when he took his tie off.

"I'm wondering if… I repulse you," she said, looking down at the floor.

"Why would you ever think that?" he asked softly, tilting her chin upwards so she'd look at him.

"You always pull away from me," she said. "When we're... intimate, you always stop it. I just… want to know why. I'd rather you be honest with me."

"Ruth, it's not that I'm not attracted to you," he said, his voice taking on a low seductive tone, which she knew he was doing on purpose.

"You might like me and care for me," she said. "You might even love me, but you don't want me. You don't desire me."

"Oh my God, Ruth," he said under his breath. "You really have no idea about me, do you?" He stood close to her, too close for comfort and he cradled her face delicately. She couldn't look away from his hypnotising eyes, even had she wanted to. "I turn away from you so I don't either pin you to the nearest wall or go crazy. I stop kissing you because there comes a point where I either have to stop, or spend the rest of my life kissing your soft lips. It's not that I don't want you, it's the complete opposite. I want you so much, I don't trust myself to stop, were you to say no."

There was a silence after that declaration as they stared at each other. A silence she broke. "I'm not saying no, Harry." He looked into her beautiful blue eyes, full of emotion, and knew she was telling the truth. She wasn't going to say no, and she wanted him, maybe as much as he wanted her.

He kissed her deeply and she could feel the difference now. This was leading somewhere, and she could taste it. His hands slipped down her back slowly, pulling her hard against him. He reached the hem of her blouse and his fingers sneaked underneath, skimming over her spine. She shivered as his tongue stroked hers deliciously and he started very slowly unbuttoning her blouse. He stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes as each button slid free. She couldn't look away from his hazel eyes, burning with passion for her. His hands skimmed over her bare skin softly, making her wonder how his touch would feel everywhere else. He didn't look away from her face as she slipped her shirt off, only pausing for a moment as it slid past the bandage on her left forearm, still covering her burns.

He brushed her hair away from her face and his fingertips grazed the edge of her bandage on her cheek, a question in his eyes. "No."

"Ruth," he said softly. "I want to see you. All of you. Don't hide from me." He started to take it off and she put her hand up to her face to stop him. He looked at her sadly.

"I'll take it off, but you're hurting me a little," she said. "It pulls at my skin. Just… let me." He kept his hands around her waist, but otherwise didn't move or touch her in any other way. In a minute or two, she'd removed the dressing on her burn, and looked at him, her eyes wet with tears she wasn't letting fall. In all honesty, the burn was bad, but it wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Her skin was an angry red, blistered, but fading into pink, and she was right. It would scar, and it would never heal properly.

"Please tell me what you're thinking." He returned his gaze to her eyes and saw that she was very close to tears.

"I was wondering if I'd ever seen bluer, more beautiful eyes than yours," he whispered.

"Harry…"

"Ruth, it doesn't matter," he said, gently circling the edge of her injury. "It doesn't make you any less beautiful."

"I wish you weren't such a good liar right now," she said, smiling at him. "It would be so nice to believe you."

He stood back from her and took off his shirt quickly. "Do my scars effect how you see me?" he asked. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes following the lines on his body. She moved towards him, her fingers following the scars on his chest softly. He shivered at the sensations she caused and closed his eyes as he tried not to react. Then he jerked as he felt her lips close around his nipple, sucking gently. He felt his self control slipping as he reached for the fastening on her bra. "Take this off," he said, low and hoarse. She looked at him, eyes glowing as she did, dropping it to the floor as he gazed on her beautiful body. Every few moments his eyes went back to hers, before looking at her naked figure again. He kissed her deeply and passionately, groaning as he felt her fingers fumbling with his belt. He squeezed her breasts lightly and she sighed with pleasure.

It didn't take long until they both stood naked, kissing each other passionately. Their bodies were touching everywhere, and the freedom to be able to do that was exhilarating.

"Bed," Harry murmured against her lips, his breath whispering across her skin. She smiled in agreement, and hurriedly lay on the bed, smiling as he followed her, covering her body with his own. He sucked her bottom lip delicately as his hand sneaked down her skin, until he stroked between her legs, making her writhe against him. She let her head roll back as he touched her intimately. He watched her face carefully, until he found the rhythm she seemed to enjoy. She panted heavily, her eyes closed as she bucked against his fingers. He smiled, knowing he'd never ever forget this moment. He lowered himself, so he could taste her nipple gently, as she sighed with pleasure.

"Harry…" she breathed. "I'm… oh, God. Mm…Yes, oh there!"

"Look at me," he said, feeling her close to climax. She did, her eyes a deep blue, then she cried out as his fingers curled against her another time, thumb brushing against her clitoris. She took a while to come around again, smiling at him, a lazy happy smile which he returned. She touched his face softly, feeling the stubble against her fingertips in a wonderful rasp.

"Get on your back," she said, a quiet demand.

"Ruth…"

"Do it," she said, biting her lip but with mischief in her eyes. He didn't argue. Before he could ever breathe, she was stroking his erection, her touch everywhere and making it hard for him to hold onto his control. God, her touch was exquisite. Too soon it was gone and he watched as she straddled him, guiding herself onto him. He stroked her thighs, moaning as he felt her warmth surround him. She settled onto him, stilling for a moment to adjust. Finally, after so many years of longing and want, they were here. He couldn't quite believe it.

Then she started to move, setting a slow pace. He caressed her breasts, delighting in the feel of them, their soft fullness as she rolled her hips against him. He groaned at the pleasure shooting through him.

"Faster," he said in a harsh breath. "I'm not going to last long." She smiled at him, then moaned as he squeezed her nipple

She was moaning and panting his name, over and over, and it was all he could do to hold onto his control. A woman hadn't cried out his name in years. The brief liaisons he'd had, he'd always given them a false name. The thrill of hearing her cry out "Harry" was unbelievable.

He let go, fingers bruising her hips as he came. She followed, only a second or two behind him, calling out his name.

She collapsed onto his chest heavily and he grunted with surprise, before holding her gently, stroking her bare back. He was still inside her and he pulled away, parting them with small moans from them both.

"I'm happy," she said, slurring her words slightly. He kissed her lips softly and she was asleep within moments. He smiled and gently rolled her onto the mattress, off of him. He watched her sleep for a few minutes and then closed his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Surprisingly, this is the last chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

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Ruth awoke, suddenly feeling on edge. She knew she'd not been sleeping long, but Harry was tense, she could feel it in the air. She kissed his shoulder gently and felt him stroke her hair. "Should I be offended that you're worrying so soon after we had sex?"

"No," he said quietly. "Don't be offended. That was… mmm."

She laughed slightly but wasn't completely reassured. "What is it? Talk to me, Harry."

"It's nothing," he said. "I can… never really sleep after sex. I don't know why. It's almost as if my body's relaxed so my brain works overtime. I don't know." He sighed. "Come here." He kissed her thoroughly, their bodies pressing together. She moaned as she felt his thigh push between her legs and she pushed herself against it with a sigh. He watched her with surprise as she rocked herself against him, moaning and panting. He held her face gently, his other hand sneaking down to her breast, squeezing her nipple. She came quickly, with a low groan as he watched, smiling at her.

"Thank you," she breathed, her eyes heavy.

"I'm sorry," he said, stroking her hair.

"For what?"

"For… not lasting as long as I wanted to," he said. "Our first time, I wanted it to be… better."

"Shut up Harry," she said, kissing him lightly. "It was never going to be better than that. It couldn't have been better. After so long, so many years of wanting you… It was perfect."

"Perfect?" he said, a smile on his face.

"Mm," she said lowly. "Pretty perfect from where I'm standing." He smiled and held her gently as they lapsed into silence. Harry was almost asleep when she spoke.

"I've been thinking…"

"Always dangerous when a woman says that to me," he said. She smiled, but carried on.

"I think… between the two of us we've done our duty. We've served our time for queen and country. I think we should leave."

"Leave the security services," he said quietly. He'd been thinking about it over the past couple of weeks, and he knew that he was going to be pushed into retirement. Better that he take it before he was pushed.

"Leave London," she said, surprising him. "Over the past few weeks, I've realised why I came back to the grid. It wasn't for the greater good, it wasn't for the country, it was for you. To be close to you, to be near you. To maybe have a chance of more with you. More than… before I left."

"You didn't have to come back for me," he said. "We could have seen each other."

"No," she said. "We couldn't. And it would never have been as it was before. I needed to know, to see for myself that I still had your trust, and that you still relied on me. Even after three years apart."

"I always trusted you," he said, still stroking her hair. "That has never been in doubt, Ruth. I thought you came back… because you wanted to come home, and it was a job you knew how to do, and do well. I also thought… or maybe hoped is a better word… that you were trying to forgive me. For… George." There. He's said it, and he waited for his new found happiness to evaporate. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Why mention George?"

"I never needed to forgive _you_." The emphasis is clear, and he looked at her. The room was dark, but the street lights still cast an orange glow over them so he could see her face. They'd never drawn the curtains. "I needed to forgive myself, and I needed time for that. I knew, right at the start, I knew that if I became involved with anyone, I'd be putting them in danger. Or potential danger anyway." She sighed heavily, and seemed to become aware that they were both naked. She grabbed a sheet and pulled it around herself tightly, before laying her head back on his chest, where he carried on stroking her hair.

"If I'd have known I'd be coming back to London," she said. "I wouldn't have gone with anyone. I was lonely, Harry. And I'm sorry. The worst thing about George, was the entire time I was with him, I felt like I was being unfaithful to you. I didn't know if you were dead or alive, and there I was with another man. I hated myself." He didn't know what to say, but held her close. She snuggled into his shoulder and kissed his bare skin gently.

"So, leave London?" he said, wanting to talk about something less depressing.

"Yes," she said. "I've… been looking at property," she said, and for the first time in this conversation, he can feel that she's nervous. "Outside the city, for… both of us."

"Have you?" he asked neutrally.

"It was just an idea," she said, stiffening against him. "If you don't…"

"No," he said. "That's not what I meant. I was just… surprised. In a good way." She shifted and saw his wide grin and felt relief.

"I want us to be permanent," she said. "And I don't want to go to your funeral Harry. If we stay in the service… that will happen. Sooner or later, it will kill you."

"Ruth," he said quietly. "You probably will end up going to my funeral." She went stiff and her eyes went wide. "Well, basic Maths," he said. "I'm fifteen years older than you, so the chances are I'm going to go first. And I refuse point blank to outlive you anyway, so at some point you will go to my funeral."

It was a sad conversation, but she couldn't help but smile. He'd given some thought to them being together in the future. Long, long into the future.

"Just… don't wear black."

"Hm?" she said.

"I've worn black to so many funerals," he said. "I hate the colour. I don't want you to wear black to mine."

"I'm not going to have to think about this for a long, long time."

"No," he said surely. "You won't."

"I've forgotten something very important." She kissed him gently. "I love you."  
He'd waited so long to hear her say it, that suddenly it didn't matter. He didn't need to hear it, because he already knew. He smiled and kissed her gently. "Go to sleep."

"Mm," she murmured. "Night Harry."

"Goodnight Ruth."

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**The End.**


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